Unscathed?
by Shezzi
Summary: She spent an emergency landing, on a road no less, in a cargo hold full of unsecured baggage. Does anyone really think she walked out unscathed? Mile High episode tag. Parker/Eliot H/C cuteness.


A/N: Hey all, some post episode H/C slight romance/whump. Hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading, please drop me a line on your way out! love xx Shezzi

Parker stood by the rest of the group on the road, hoping no one would notice how stiffly she was standing. She hurt all over; the cargo hold was definitely not the recommended place to spend an emergency landing. She had been hit by more than one suitcase, as well as becoming airborne and impacting the walls and ceiling herself.

She had gone with it as well as she could, using her exceptional body control to minimize the damage, but she was fairly sure she had cracked several ribs, and she knew she had deep bruises on her back and a probable concussion.

She just had to keep it together until she could get alone, then she could take care of herself. She missed wearing a harness; one of the things they were great for was chest compression, because the first thing that tended to happen if anything went wrong on one of her drops was a cracked rib or two.

For now, she stood as still as possible, holding herself stiffly, and hoped none of the others really thought about where she had been, or looked at her too closely. She knew that the way they didn't understand her would work in her favour.

In her world, people knowing your were hurt gave them the advantage over you, and as much as she was coming to trust and, in the privacy of her own head she could admit it, like her team, some habits were too ingrained to break.

She looked around, forcing herself to ignore her slightly blurry vision, and found Eliot staring at her, a slight frown on his face. Before she could move, or say anything, he was in front of her, scowling.

"Lift your arms over your head," he ordered gruffly. She just glared at him and turned away.

"Parker," he growled, shifting so he was in front of her again. "You can't do it, can you? You're hurt."

"I'm fine," she snapped, and he just shook his head.

"Your pupils are different sizes, I can see some blood from where you hit your head and the way you're holding yourself I'm guessing you've done some damage to your ribs. Darlin', you were in the luggage compartment during a crash landing, and you look like it." He reached out and prodded her in the side before she could move away, her flinch and stifled exclamation enough for him.

"Sit," he ordered, guiding her to a nearby car and pushing her down on the bumper. He took her wrists in his hands and gently uncrossed her arms, watching her face closely as he did so. He laid his hand carefully against the right side of her rib cage, pressing lightly. "Thought so," he said when she whimpered. "We need to get these wrapped up," he told her. "They could be broken."

"They're just cracked," she replied, remembering not to shrug at the last minute.

"You can't know that for sure," he told her, shrugging out of his jacket and unbuttoning his work shirt.

By now, the other two had been pulled out of their wrapping up of the situation.

"Parker?" asked Sophie softly over the comms. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Parker snapped.

"No she's not," said Eliot at the same time. "She's got a concussion and several broken ribs; she spent an emergency landing loose in the luggage compartment, how would you be?"

Parker tried to stand up and defend herself, but Eliot stalled that plan by the simple expedient of pressing down, very gently, on her shoulder. Her answering wince almost made him feel guilty as he pinned her in place. "Don't move," he ordered before removing his hand and, pulling out the knife he had taken from the ex-SEAL who was still stuck in the staff toilet, he started cutting his shirt into strips. Gently raising her right arm, he started tying the strips tightly around her body. Once he had fully wrapped her rib cage he put her arm in a makeshift sling and strapped it across her chest.

"That'll do for now," he said, shifting backwards. "How much pain are you in?"

"I'm fine," she replied as she stood, swaying slightly and telling herself it was because of one arm being out of action.

"No, darlin', you're not, but we already covered that. I'll get you something as soon as I can."

"I don't do drugs," she told him absently, staring around at the scene, at Sophie who was throwing her concerned glances while talking to the girl they were there to help, and Nate who she could hear over the comms attempting to commandeer a car.

"This isn't drugs, this is pain medication. There's a difference."

"If you can get addicted to it, it's a drug. I. Don't. Do. Drugs, Eliot," she scowled impressively.

"Parker, even I have to take something for the pain occasionally. You need something and you're gonna take it, understand?"

"Or what? You'll hold down the defenseless girl with the broken ribs and force them down her throat?" she snapped back.

"See? I told you they were broken," he grinned triumphantly at getting her to admit it, but she just scowled at him. "And yes, if it came to that, I would find a way to force them down your throat," he added.

She just stuck out her tongue at him, scowling.

"But it won't come to that, because if it did, I would just give you an IV," he finished.

"You wouldn't," she hissed, and he just cocked his head and raised an eyebrow at her.

"You're in pain. You won't take care of yourself, then I will."

She just huffed and started to spin away when the concussion caught up with her. Eliot caught her before she could make it any worse by hitting her head, or any other part of her anatomy, on the asphalt.

"Come on, darlin'. Let's get you somewhere more comfortable," he told her, scooping her into his arms, ignoring her attempts to get down, and carrying her over to the car that Nate had finally managed to acquire for them.

He sat her in the back seat and pulled the seatbelt around her before climbing in next to her. He ran a hand around her head and found the goose egg where she'd hit it easily enough. The split in the skin was still tacky but no longer bleeding freely as he glanced around the car.

Realising he couldn't see what he needed, this not actually being his own, overly stocked, vehicle, he tapped his comms. "Sophie, could you find me an icepack, please?"

"I'll do you one better," she said from just outside the door, startling him and making him curse himself for getting distracted. In her hands was a full first aid kit, similar to ones paramedics used. In fact, it looked exactly like the ones paramedics used. Glancing outside, he saw several ambulances and realized where she had gotten the kit.

"Thanks," he told her, taking it. He quickly found a piece of gauze to keep the icepack from freezing to the wound, then snapped the capsule within the icepack and shook it to get the chemical reaction going. He wrapped it in a cloth and placed it against the bump.

Parker hissed at the cold, but leant into it at the same time, feeling it ease the pain slightly. Eliot quickly prepared another pack and placed it against her ribs.

Sophie climbed into the front passenger seat, glancing back worriedly at Parker then at Eliot, a question in her eyes that the hitter ignored, too focused on his less than cooperative patient.

Parker could feel herself start to drift off, and surrendered, only to have Eliot force her back into consciousness by tapping her cheek and calling her name.

"Sorry, darlin'," he told her when she glared at him. "No sleeping with a concussion."

Knowing he was right, she still couldn't help but scowl at him. Eliot ignored her expression and started rooting through the kit for the painkillers he knew paramedics carried. "Here we go. 5mg of morphine, just for you, sweetheart." He held up the pre-loaded syringe and Parker glared at him, shaking her head.

"Nuh-uh," she declared, tucking her one free arm tightly against her side.

"Parker, you know that I know at least ten different places I could stick you, right? So give me your arm and let me do it the least painful way possible."

"It makes me fuzzy," she objected, her tone childish but somehow desperate.

The hitter sighed softly. "Darlin', you're hurting. We're gonna be moving for a while, here, and the roads aren't the best. You need this or you're gonna hurt yourself worse."

"Parker, give him your arm," ordered Nate, scowling over his shoulder at the recalcitrant thief. "Let him…let us take care of you."

Eliot felt Parker slump with defeat as she extended her arm towards him. He quickly applied a tourniquet, cleaned the crook of her elbow with an alcohol wipe and injected the drug, pressing a swab over the site as he withdrew the needle and snapped off the tourniquet.

"Thank you," he told her, grateful that she had submitted to something that she really hadn't wanted but was undoubtedly for her own good.

Parker just rolled her eyes at him, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"What day is it, Parker/" he asked her suddenly, realizing he hadn't actually thought to do a neuro-obs check. 

"I've been up for thirty-two straight hours, Eliot. I haven't the foggiest clue," she told him.

"Parker, what date is the next exhibition of Egyptian jewelry opening at the Smithsonian?" asked Sophie from the front seat.

"Oh, that's in four days, the 29th," Parker told her quickly, grinning. 

"See, Eliot? You just have to ask the questions that mean something to her," Sophie grinned at the disgruntled hitter before turning back to face the road.

"How many fingers?" asked Eliot, holding up two in front of her face.

He knew as soon as he had done it that she was struggling to see them. "Three?" she asked, uncertain, as she squinted.

"Okay, update that from a mild to a moderate concussion, darlin'," he told her. "You feel like you're gonna throw up?"

"Just sleepy," she mumbled grumpily, snuggling her head into his shoulder. "And sore."

"I know, darlin'. But you can't sleep right now, so stay with me, yeah?"

"Don't wanna," she pouted petulantly, almost crossing her eyes to look at his face.

He couldn't help but laugh at her expression. "We'll be at the hotel soon, and you can get you a bit more comfortable, okay?"

"Whatever," she grumbled. She shifted in the seat, trying to get more comfortable, unconsciously shifting closer to Eliot in the process. The hitter, without thinking, raised his arm and wrapped it gently around her shoulders, allowing her to snuggle closer. Sophie, sitting in the front seat and watching in the mirrors, didn't miss this particular move.

"Parker, walk me through breaking into the Cairo Museum antiquities floor," requested Eliot, knowing that that particular topic would keep her talking, and therefore conscious, for a decent period of time.

"Which way?" she asked, before warming to her topic.

By the time they pulled up to a decent hotel, Parker was describing the fifth way you could (and she had) broken into the Cairo Museum. Her words were slurring slightly, and her eyelids drooped, but she was still conscious.

"Come on, darlin'," Eliot helped her out of the vehicle, taking most of her weight and waiting to see if she could make it inside. "Think you can walk?"

She nodded against his chest, and he wrapped a careful arm around her, taking as much weight as he could while trying not to put pressure on her ribs, not the easiest thing in the world to do.

Parker's head was spinning as she tried to walk, and she could feel her stomach threatening to revolt, not that it really had anything to expel. She swallowed hard, but the churning just got worse.

"El…Eliot," she croaked, managing to convey what she needed to say with one word and a desperate expression. He lowered her to the ground, sweeping her hair away from her face, and supported her forehead with his free hand as she retched and coughed up the truly minimal contents of her stomach. Sophie crouched on her other side, rubbing her back, while Nate went in to book rooms for them all.

Even after there was nothing coming up, she couldn't stop her body's heaves. Finally, she collapsed against him, shaking, and he lifted her in his arms.

Nate met them inside the door and helped shield Parker from the receptionist as they hustled into the (fortunately empty) elevator.

"I got us three rooms," Nate said, handing Sophie one passkey and holding on to the others as Eliot didn't exactly have a free hand. "I figured someone would need to stay with Parker, so there was no point in getting four."

"I'll do it," Eliot told them, not realizing that he had pulled her closer to his chest, possessively, or that he was scowling at his team members as though daring them to try and take her. "I'm the most qualified to take care of her anyway, unless any of you have done the PJ's emergency medicine course?"

"I think you already know the answer to that," Sophie replied, rolling her eyes at him. "I'll help you get her settled."

He realized then that she had grabbed the emergency kit from the car, and smiled his gratitude. "Give me their key and go and get some rest," Sophie ordered Nate. "You look like hell."

"Gee, thanks, mom," the older man snarked as he handed over the key. "Let me know how's she's doing," he ordered more soberly before he headed off in the direction of his own room.

"Come on, darlin, let's get you settled," Eliot said softly as Sophie opened the door to their shared room. He set Parker down on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of her, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Parker, I'm gonna cut your dress off so we can get you properly strapped, okay?"

"Mmmhmmm," the blonde mumbled, her gaze unfocussed.

"Pass me a pair of shears," Eliot said over his shoulder to Sophie, who quickly dug the requested item out of the kit, as well as bandages and tape. "Thanks. Could you go find something else for her to wear? It's not like we have any luggage, and I already ripped up my shirt for her, so that's not an option."

"I'll pick something up at the gift shop. You'll be alright with her?"

"We'll be fine," Eliot told her, waving her out the door. "Go." As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, he started cutting away the rudimentary strapping on Parker's ribs, wincing as she moaned as each point of pressure was released. Once the strapping was out of the way, he quickly cut off the skimpy grey dress. He sucked in a breath at the sight of the bruises that mottled her torso, vivid blues and reds standing out starkly against her pale skin.

Swallowing hard, he grabbed the elastic bandages Sophie had set out for him and, gently positioning Parker, he started wrapping her ribs, firmly but not too firmly, not wanting to cut off her air. Once he was finished, he realized that she wasn't wearing a bra and he hadn't even noticed, but he shrugged off the realization as unimportant in the present situation.

He found several deep bruises on her back, one in particular looking like it came from the corner of a briefcase, but hadn't been able to find any evidence of underlying damage, and none of them were over her spine, so that was something. She had a multitude of bruises on her extremities, but no gross deformities, so she was pretty safe there. She did have a fairly nasty looking bruise on her abdomen, which was what he turned his attention to next.

"Parker, lie back here," he helped her move around and lean back against some pillows. "I need you to pay attention, darlin'. I know you're hurting and your head's all fuzzy, but I need you to tell me if this hurts." He started palpating her abdomen as she frowned in concentration, and he had to force himself not to concentrate on how cute her frown was instead of what his hands were telling him about the state of her innards.

"Ow," she flinched away from his probing fingers at one point, but Eliot couldn't be certain if it was just from the depth of the bruising. There was no rigidity or spasm, so he moved on to the next quadrant.

Soon, he was a certain she didn't have internal bleeding as he could be without an MRI or a peritoneal lavage. He turned his attention to her knee, which had a decent bruise, and gently manipulated the joint, ascertaining that it wasn't sprained, although from the way she reacted he had a feeling the bone was bruised.

He grabbed the last couple of icepacks out of the kit and applied one to her side and one to her back before shaking up the one he'd already used and applying it to her knee.

"Talk to me, Parker," he demanded, leaning in closer to her face, checking her pupils which still seemed slightly sluggish. He grabbed a penlight and started flashing it in her eyes, causing her to flinch and protest vigorously.

"Stop it!" she tried to shove the hand with the offending piece of equipment away, but Eliot caught her hand in his free one and easily held it away.

"Darlin', I know it's not nice, but just hold still, I'm almost done," he told her gently. He finished as quickly as he could and was putting the penlight away (where Parker hopefully couldn't find and dispose of it before he stopped needing it) when Sophie came back in. She was carrying a bag from which she pulled a roomy button up flannelette nighty, a purchase which caused her to rise immediately in Eliot's estimation (he had been half expecting her to bring back something completely inappropriate…more than half expecting it, actually).

Between the two of them, with Parker's minimal assistance, they got her into the garment.

"Thank you, Sophie," she slurred, smiling lopsidedly at the grifter, who smiled gently at her before covering a yawn with one hand.

"You should get some rest, we've all been up for way too long," Eliot told her, and she nodded.

"You two will be alright?"

"We'll be fine, I'll take care of her," Eliot said firmly. "Go. Sleep."

Once Sophie was out of the room, Eliot took off his boots and sat on the king sized bed beside Parker. He looked down at her, meeting her eyes as her head rolled back over the top of the pillow.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, holding her gaze and refusing to allow her to drop her eyes.

"Bad," she finally admitted. "So sleepy." She shifted closer to him on the bed, raising her unsecured hand to poke him.

"Parker," he said, his tone so completely serious that she froze before looking up at him. "Why didn't you tell anyone you were hurt? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I can take care of myself," she replied sulkily. "I always do."

"But you don't have to anymore, darlin'. That's one of the good parts of working as a team, you have other people to rely on. And believe me, those words sound damn strange comin' outta my mouth, but I'm still saying 'em."

"Nuh-uh," Parker mumbled, trying to shake her head but giving it up as a bad job almost before she'd started moving it. "Can't let anyone know you're hurt. They can…" she trailed off, frowning, as though she realized she was saying more than she wanted to.

"Can what, darlin'? Take advantage?" asked Eliot gently. "Do you see any of us doing that? We care about you, sweetheart, and we're gonna take care of you."

"Can't trust people when you're hurt," Parker insisted. "They have the advantage."

"Do you trust me?" asked Eliot gently, and she looked away, not meeting his eyes. "Parker, do you trust me? You know I would never let anyone hurt you if I could stop it, right?"

Slowly, the little thief nodded. "You…take care of us," she said slowly, trying to put something she didn't really understand into words. "I…I never had anyone take care of me before, Eliot," she admitted. "I don't think I'm very good at it."

"Darlin', there's plenty of things you aren't really good at, we know that, but it doesn't matter," Eliot told her gently, raising one hand to cup her cheek, the calluses on his palm oddly reassuring against her smooth skin. "You're learning. And that's alright. None of us is used to working in a team situation, we're all lone wolves. We gotta get used to functioning as a pack, and part of that is letting the other members of the team take care of us. So, let me take care of you, now?"

"Okay," Parker replied, leaning her cheek into his palm. Eliot rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone, and her eyelids fluttered closed as she smiled.

"Uh-uh, Parker, stay awake," he ordered gently, tapping her nose. He had to laugh when she opened her eyes and crossed them to stare at the offending digit, his chuckle causing her to scowl slightly at him.

He was taken aback when he realized he was thinking how cute she looked when she did that. Her blond hair was tangled around her head, she was bruised, strapped up, wearing a flannel nightgown and was an all around mess, never mind the fact that she was Parker, 'dingoes ate my baby' crazy Parker, she looked so damn cute.

His facial expression must have been off, because Parker was now looking at him oddly.

"What?" she asked, confused.

In that moment, Eliot wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but he knew that she was in no condition to respond to such an advance. Instead he just smiled and shook his head. "Nothin', darlin'. Just thinking is all."

"If I can't sleep, what are we going to do?" demanded Parker, whose eyelids were starting to droop once more.

"Well, for a start, you're gonna drink some water. It's only another four and half hours before you can sleep. I know, at the moment, that sounds like forever," he added, seeing her disbelieving expression.

"I have a killer headache, busted ribs and you gave me morphine, you bet your shiny tomato it feels like forever," Parker snapped back.

He forced himself not to laugh at her as he opened the minibar. After a moment's consideration, he grabbed a bottle of Gatorade and crossed back to the bed, opening it.

"Here. This should help a bit. Some of what you're feeling is because you're dehydrated and your system is all out of whack, this'll get some electrolytes and salts back into you," he told her as he supported her shoulders and raised the bottle to her lips. "Don't drink too much; you don't want to make yourself sick again."

She took a couple of sips, allowing the sweet liquid to slide down her sore throat, then turned her head away slightly to signal Eliot that it was enough. He capped the bottle and put it on the bedside table, returning to his seat beside her.

Parker shivered, feeling oddly cold, but before she could say anything, Eliot was pulling a soft blanket up around her shoulders.

"Here, darlin," he said, tucking it in close around her. "Those icepacks probably aren't helping, but we can take them off for a while soon." Deciding that, even if kissing her would be taken advantage of her current condition, this was something he could do, so he slipped closer to her, sliding under the blanket and carefully wrapped an arm around her shoulders, taking her hands in his and rubbing them gently.

Parker made a small sound that that he thought might be a sign of appreciation, it at least didn't sound pained though with Parker you could never tell, and snuggled against his chest. "You're warm," she told him, answering his inner musings, and he smiled slightly.

"That's the idea, darlin'. Just tryin' to keep you warm."

"'s nice," she told him, and he smiled before getting the bottle of Gatorade once more.

After a few more sips, she lay back against him, and he removed the icepacks to give her body some time to recover.

"Tell me a story," demanded the petite blonde as she rested her head against his shoulder, looking out the window and into the distance.

"What kind of story?" asked Eliot warily, uncertain what it was she wanted to hear.

"Nothing with horses," she said quickly, and he stopped himself from laughing, worried that he might jostle her. 

"True story?"

"Of course, what point is there if it isn't true?" demanded Parker with her usual bluntness. "A job. The weirdest one you ever had before joining the team."

"Weird, huh? Well, there was this time in mainland China…"

For about another hour, time passed in much the same fashion, Eliot pausing occasionally to get Parker to drink more Gatorade, and to apply or remove the icepacks.

"Eliot," Parker said suddenly, her voice sounding oddly strained. "I'm gonna throw up."

He quickly propped her up, grabbing the empty ice bucket from the bedside table where he had put it, just in case. He held her as she hacked and retched, rubbing her back gently and waiting.

Finally, he laid her back against he pillows and set about cleaning up the mess. He grabbed a glass of water and helped her rinse her mouth, cautioning her against trying to drink just yet.

He shook the icepacks again, renewing the chemical reaction that kept them cold, and reapplied them, this time putting one on the back of her head instead of her knee. He gently pinched the skin on the back of her hand to check for dehydration, and frowned at how long it stayed standing.

"Darlin', I think I'm gonna hafta give you an IV," he told the little thief, who wrinkled her nose but nodded resignedly. "Good girl," he told her as he dug the necessary supplies out of the kit, once more thanking Sophie for her foresight. These didn't come in the regular kits, they were stored in bins inside the ambulance (he's had to steal enough of them to know) but he had seen them in the bag earlier and realized that Sophie must have just grabbed them in case.

"So, you had a cover as a musician at a bar during that thing in Canada?" asked Parker, and Eliot nodded as he cleaned the back of her hand and prepared the catheter, sliding it in and removing the syringe with a deft touch, getting a perfect flashback on his first attempt.

"Sure did," he replied, attaching the tubing and hanging the bag of electrolyte and glucose enriched Hartmann's fluid from the bedpost.

"So…what do you play?" she asked, curious.

"Guitar. And I sing," he admitted.

"Sing something for me?" she asked, looking so pathetic that if he didn't know that she was almost completely guileless most of the time, he would have suspected that she was playing him.

He finished cleaning up, then returned to his position beside her. "Okay, darlin'," he told her, smiling, and she grinned at him "Just don't tell Hardison, okay?" she hastily nodded her agreement and he grinned.

He leant back against the pillow with her head cushioned against his shoulder and tried to decide what to sing. He hadn't told her that he wrote the songs he performed, something that he hadn't told anyone in years. Finally, he decided on just the right one.

"Pretty girl on every corner…" he started, tapping his palms against his legs to keep the beat.

"Thank you," she whispered when he finished. "That was beautiful."

"You're welcome, darlin'. Now, I've told you some stories, how about you tell me some?"

"What do you want to hear?" she asked, curious what he wanted to know about.

"I told you my weirdest job. What was yours?"

"Hmmm…" Parker thought for a moment before launching into a story that had Eliot laughing not because it was so weird, but because by most peoples standards it really wasn't. Of course, he didn't actually tell her that, but let her enjoy the fact that she had entertained him.

She badgered several more songs and stories out of him, giving up a few of her own as well, in between bouts of intense dry retching nausea.

Her ribs were killing her as she lay back against the pillows from her latest bout with the ice bucket, but she was determined not to say anything, because she knew that as soon as she did Eliot would give her more morphine. The upside was that she didn't have to struggle so much to stay awake, the pain keeping her alert.

Eliot could feel Parker getting tenser as she lay beside him and knew that her pain had to be ratcheting up again, but he waited, wanting to see if she would turn to him for help before he forced it on her again.

Finally, he couldn't wait any longer, and he turned to her after he finished telling his latest story of a heist he'd pulled in Budapest and eyed her. "Are you planning on telling me how much you're hurting?" he asked, forcing himself not to scowl, but unable to hide his concern.

"No," she replied honestly. "I don't want any more," she added, as he slid silently off the bed and made his way to the kit.

"Too bad," he told her, raising an eyebrow at her mulish expression. "We gonna do this again, sweetheart?"

Parker sighed but shook her head, knowing this time that he wasn't actually planning on taking advantage of her, but she still didn't like it, didn't like allowing anyone to take away her edge, particularly when she was already so far from normal.

"Thank you," Eliot said when she didn't try to move her hand when he went to inject the drug into the IV port. "Thank you for trusting me."

Parker just nodded. The expression in his eyes right now makes her glad that she allowed him to drug her without arguing about it. He smiled at her then, reaching out to touch her face for the second time that day, and she all she could think was how nice it was, that gentle touch, that hand that was capable of so much damage, his rough calluses skimming gently over her cheek as she leaned into it.

The expression in her eyes took his breath away, and he sat down beside her on the edge of the bed, hip to hip facing her, being careful not to bump her IV. "How's that working?" he asked gently, anything to distract himself from how much he wanted to kiss her just then.

"It's good," she admitted softly. "Thank you for taking care of me," she whispered.

"You're welcome, darlin'," he told her softly. He stood up and moved back around to the other side, getting back up on the bed. "You're okay to sleep, now. I'll be here. I'll wake you up in a bit to check on you."

Eliot wrapped his arm back around her as she curled into him, her head snuggling into the pillow.

"Ummm…" she glanced at him, uncertainly, then realized that she didn't have much of a choice except to trust him, and more than that she actually wanted to. "Eliot, I…you probably need to know, I have nightmares. And I tend to react badly when I'm woken up from them. So be careful, because I don't want to give you a black eye after you took such good care of me today."

"Okay, Parker," he said, brushing some hair back from her face. "I'll be here. You just get some sleep."

Paker allowed her eyes to close, snuggling closer to the hitter as she allowed herself to relax.

Eliot relaxed back against the pillows, enjoying the feeling of Parker curled up against him. As he lay there, watching over her, he started plotting, planning where to take things from here. Because, while he had no idea how, somewhere in the last few months, without realizing it, he had fallen in love with the little thief.

As he lay pondering, he was extremely alert to any changes in Parker that could show the beginnings of a nightmare. As soon as her breathing hitched, he moved a hand to his face, stroking her cheek. "It's okay, Parker," he murmured, his voice nothing but a low rumble in his chest. "I'm here. I've got you."

Remembering something that worked well with nervous horses, he started to hum softly. There was something about a constant, calm, deep toned noise that soothed nervous animals, and, he was hoping, the subconscious mind of a high strung, insane thief. Her breath hitched once more, then evened back out.

He kept her asleep that way for about an hour, then woke her up briefly and performed another neuro check.

This time when she fell back asleep, things were different. Rather than the occasional moan or caught breath, she suddenly started whimpering and twisting on the bed. "Don't," she sobbed suddenly, as Eliot was reaching for her to wake her up. "Please don't."

Eliot swallowed hard at the pain in her voice as he carefully took both of her wrists in one hand before placing the other on her cheek and tapping lightly. "Parker? Parker, sweetheart, wake up. It's a nightmare, I'm here, I've got you. Come on back now." He tapped her cheek again, and her eyes flew open suddenly. "Hey there, gorgeous," he said gently. "You're alright, I've got you, just relax. Breathe," he ordered, when he realized she was holding her breath, her body completely stiff. "Parker! Breathe!"

She took a great, shuddering gasp, and immediately regretted it as her broken ribs screamed, releasing it just as fast, and started to pant, quick shallow breathes.

"Parker, Parker, slow down," he got right in her face, forcing her to meet his eyes with her own panicked, pain-filled blue orbs. "Breathe with me, through your nose, not your mouth. In, slowly, that's it, now out. In…out. Good girl. Just keep going, that's it." Now that he was sure that he wasn't going to get punched, he released Parker's wrists. The panic is slowly leaving her eyes now, and turns to him, grateful.

"Thanks," she whispered, her voice hoarse. Now that she was settled down, Eliot pulled back, settling into his former position beside her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he offered gently, but she shook her head, and he let it go. It was her business, and if she wanted to share it she would, but he wasn't going to go pushing for her to tell him something she wasn't ready to share, he had more than enough of his own painful secrets.

He noticed that the IV bag as just about empty, so to allow her a moment to gather herself, he set about disconnecting it and removing the catheter. He tapped a piece of gauze over the site, then returned to the bed, where Parker was now looking much more collected. It scared him how fast she was able to put herself back together, but he was determined not to show it.

"Go back to sleep, darlin'," he told her, stretching out on his side so she could curl into his chest. "I've got ya."

"I know," she said softly. "It's nice, even if I'm not good at it." She fell asleep almost immediately then, pillowing her head on his chest. Eliot smiled as he remembered her earlier words about not being good at letting someone else take care of her, glad that she was allowing him in, letting him see her when she was vulnerable.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out, carrying on a brief, whispered conversation. Hardison had gotten them tickets home, now there was a word he wasn't used to using, on an early flight the next day, so for now he settled in for the long haul, getting Parker through the night, soothing he nightmares away and ensuring she didn't fall into a coma.

By the next morning he was more than a little grateful for the fact that he hadn't slept more than 90 minutes a night in years. He needed some coffee, but he's still functioning, and he got Parker through the night well, although he did have to ring Nate earlier to go and get some more painkillers.

Parker stirred slowly against his chest, a sleepy groan passing her lips before she woke. He had been making alternate bets with himself all night as to whether she would wake up on her own or whether he'd have to rouse her from a nightmare, and it looked like she was going to win. He was glad; it was a much healthier way for it to happen.

When her eyes fluttered open, he was smiling down at her. She blinked in surprise, then slowly smiled back. "Hey there, sleeping beauty," he said softly, cupping her cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"You're doing it wrong," she told him as she leant into his touch. "S'not how sleeping beauty woke up."

Eliot blinked in surprise and suffered a moment of confusion before realizing what she meant. Leaning in closer, he brushed his lips over hers, then slowly deepened the kiss, pulling back after a few seconds so as not to put Parker's breathing out to much.

"That's better," Parker smiled, and Eliot smiled back.


End file.
